


Speak a Little Louder

by glitteredcurls



Series: H&L one-shots [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Based on a Tumblr Post, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, and it's freaking adorable, only they know, they don't want to be public about their relationship so they use song lyrics as their senior quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 07:03:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15680400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredcurls/pseuds/glitteredcurls
Summary: (Based on the tumblr edit by @suspenderz)Harry is trying to pick the perfect senior quote to immortalize his four years of high school, but the only thing he can think about-- only thing he has been able to think about-- is Louis Tomlinson. Unfortunately, Harry's not ready to tell the school in so many words about his four year love affair, so he searches for other voices to supplement his own.





	Speak a Little Louder

**Author's Note:**

> Title (and other little lines) are from the Fleetwood Mac song "Everywhere".
> 
> [Original Post](http://suspenderz.tumblr.com/post/176963906437/au-louis-harry-are-nerds-who-go-to-the-same)  
> This was just such a cute edit I had to write something short for it! Although admittedly, I now realize how much I love nerdy/high school h&l. If y'all want more, hmu. I have no self control.  
> xo

Senior quotes were due in the yearbook room by last bell. Harry had been frantically scanning every poetry book he’d ever studied for something mildly impressive-- or even just fucking  _ coherent _ \-- to put down. He had gone through Walt Whitman and Emily Dickinson, and had nothing that encapsulated his four years of high school.

The library doors closed and Harry looked up, hoping it wasn’t his favorite football quarterback looking to snap his new glasses in half. Again. Harry was relieved to see a high-buttoned polo and a set of navy braces: Louis Tomlinson. Now  _ that _ was the perfect summation of Harry’s four years; those charming blue eyes, those ridiculously angled cheekbones, and the confident stride that once was a disguise for trembling bones and frayed nerves. Louis was the best thing to sit in front of Harry in freshman honors bio, accidentally slipping off his stool and whacking Harry’s glasses clean off. He couldn’t see shit then, but looking at Louis' blurred face made everything in Harry’s world fade into the background. Everything was finally clear.

Harry just wished he could be open about the past four years with Louis, and the future they had already planned.

“Hey you.” Louis grinned, slipping into the seat across from Harry. He placed his books on the outer edge, hiding the two of them as he quickly grabbed Harry’s hands. “What are you doing hiding in here?”

“I’m trying to pick out my senior quote. I only have like--” Harry twisted Louis’ wrist to see his watch. “Twenty minutes. I have nothing.”

“What do you want to say?” Louis asked, refusing to feed into Harry’s hysteria. He looked at him with calming eyes and a gentle smile. “What do you want to talk about as your last impression here?”

“You.” Harry whispered. A group of students passed their table, shuffling by the shelves on the hunt for their own book of poetry. Harry dropped Louis’ hands and stuffed them into his cardigan pockets. “I want to talk about you.”

“You know I have my own photo, right?” Louis laughed. “I’m talking about myself plenty.”

“I know that, but I just want to be able to say how much I--” the students circled back. Both boys cleared their throats and pretended to be reading. They waited until they were back at the librarian's desk, new books in hand. “How much I love you.”

“Are you ready for that though, honey?” Louis said, looking at Harry with a sympathetic, scrunched expression.

“No.” Harry mumbled. “No I’m not.” It was only three more months. Three more months and Harry wouldn’t have to worry about his rainbow-printed shirt or his proximity to other boys. Three months and Harry would give his valedictorian speech and walk the _fuck_ out of that high school; diploma in one hand, Louis in the other.

Of course, that was riding on the fact that Harry didn’t out himself by accident, his affection palatable in the air every time he simply looked at Louis.

“Well, let’s find you a quote then, huh?” Louis scanned the spines of Harry’s books. His face dropped. “None of these poets are very much like you.”

“Walt Whitman was gay.”

“So was Allen Ginsberg, but that doesn’t mean you should quote “Please Master” or “Howl”.” Louis countered, closing the anthology Harry had in front of him. “You need to think outside the box, Harry. What other poetry do you like?”

“Uh, is this a trick question?” Harry quirked an eyebrow, knowing it poked up above his glasses. It was a look Louis labeled "grossly endearing".

“ _ Music _ , Harry.” Louis said, reaching over for Harry’s messenger bag. Despite his comfort with Louis, he had to act offended for the rest of the library; casual lab partners still had physical boundaries. He pulled out Harry’s phone and unlocked it, his fingerprint already set for the home button. “Okay, let’s see the last thing you were listening to.”

“Oh god.” Harry groaned, trying to reach out and take his phone back. “Please don’t.”

“Fleetwood Mac?” Louis said, looking at Harry incredulously. Harry sank back in his seat, ready to pull his cardigan over his face. Louis laughed softly, undetectable by passing students. “And you said you were having trouble picking a quote.”

“I can’t quote a Fleetwood Mac song.” Harry said firmly. “That’s like, well…”

“Like what?” Louis placed Harry’s phone down between them, letting his fingers extend past the phone and graze the table. Harry’s hand would have been there had they both been braver men.

“That’s a little  _ gay _ , don’t you think?” Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. “I can’t honestly expect anyone to think I’m straight if I put some line about  _ pride _ from a Fleetwood Mac song.” It was entirely possible no one would ever even look at his picture in the yearbook, but even the scarcest of chances were still too high to risk.

“You already have a quote in mind.” Louis gasped, pointing at Harry. His lips pressed together in a tight, entertained smile. His nose crinkled and Harry couldn’t possibly be mad at him. “I didn’t say  anything and you mentioned _pride_. What’s your idea? Go ahead! Tell me!”

“It’s nothing. It’s just,” Harry sighed and placed is hands on the table. His pointer finger bumped against Louis’ hand. “ _ You know that I’m proud and I can’t get the words out _ .” He slipped his fingers over Louis’ hand, squeezing it tightly.

"You have to use that one.” Louis whispered, biting his lip. “That one’s beautiful.” Harry refrained from confessing he had always thought of Louis listening to  _ Everywhere. _ He wanted to call out Louis’ name and be with that goddamn boy everywhere he could. It rang in his ears when he saw him across the hall, whenever he heard his name.

“I love you.” Harry mouthed, not willing to risk being overheard. All Louis could do was smile in return, but Harry could hear the words in the silence. He heard them whispered in his ear by his locker, confidently when they were sitting in his room, and softly when he and Louis stole their own extended moments of privacy in the backseat of his car.

Harry held Louis’ hand and it was enough for the moment. He couldn’t get the words out-- or even know what they were supposed to be-- but he’d have the warm touch and assuring smile of the love of his life to guide him through speechlessness comfortably.

“Want to read mine?” Louis asked, opening the top cover of one of his textbooks. The yearbook page was neatly tucked between the first two pages, perfectly creased in half. “Here you are.”

Harry read it. Read it twice. Then a third. Then he sang it, just to make sure he was seeing things correctly.

_ If you change your mind, I’ll be first in line _ .

“ _ ABBA _ ?” Harry said, looking over his glasses at Louis. “Baby, I’m sorry, but that’s gayer than mine.”

“Oh shut up.” Louis took the paper, tucking it away again. “It reminds me of you.”

“How so?” Harry leaned forward over the table again. Louis’ light freckles came into focus as Harry studied his face shamelessly. He had been thinking about kissing it since he passed him at first bell. “I’ve  _ never _ changed my mind about you. I always have and always will be helplessly into you, Tomlinson.” Louis cleared his throat and smoothed his shirt, trying to deter the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Not that.” He said. “It’s for whenever you want to…  _ change _ and let everyone know. I’ll be right behind you. First in line. Always.” Louis’ foot tapped against Harry’s leg under the table. “Or if you decide not to and want to keep it to yourself, I’m still first. I’m always waiting in the wings for you, Harry.”

“I can’t believe you pulled all that out of an ABBA song.” Harry giggled, covering his mouth. “Think anyone’s going to notice?”

“No. No one pays close enough attention to us.” Louis muttered, shaking his head. “Now, come on, write it down so we can get going. My sisters are out tonight. All night.”

“Okay! Okay!” Harry kept giggling as he grabbed a pen and wrote the songs lyrics on the provided lines. Louis took the page and added it to his own, ready to be submitted on their way out.

Louis stood beside the table, books clutched in his arms and bag resting on his popped hip. He scoped the room as Harry packed his things, clocking each person at the adjacent tables; no one was looking. In the obnoxiously fluorescent light, Louis’ careful features were washed out, but his kind eyes stayed. Harry couldn’t as clearly see the scowl or furrowed look on Louis’ face as he watched other students walk by, possibly having heard their conversation. Instead, he could only see Louis’ eyes bouncing from one person to the other. He always took them in carefully, scanning over every inch of them before letting them leave his sight and mind.

Eventually, his eyes came to rest on Harry. They still tracked every inch of his face, hovering around Harry’s own eyes before dragging down to his lips. Every glint and shade in Louis’ eyes were breathtaking, Harry consistently rendered dumb in their presence.

“You ready?” Louis asked, holding out a hand to help Harry stand from the chair, if only to touch him one more time.

“Ready.” Harry nodded, taking his hand briefly.

He wanted to hand his paper in and submit a quote beyond the reach of poetic canon. His might be overlooked, both of theirs maybe, but they’d know. They’d point at it years later, when they were graying and struggling to remember classmates’ names. When they’d open the book and find their own young faces, cheerily smiling, and read the quote they assigned to their youth. Years later when Harry and Louis were married and in complete bliss, having forgotten every second of high school that kept them stumbling around in the shadows of their own fear.

They’d look back, when they’d been in love for so long they’d forgotten a time before it, and see their secret code to one another. Two songs picked and played every car ride home and every night in. Two songs that sang to the other the fluttering in their hearts. Two songs for when they were too nervous.

For when they were falling and didn’t know what to say.


End file.
